


one for the money, two for the show

by petalips



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, References to Drugs, i don't know how to tag, it's shitty tho because idk how to write smut sorry, the 20s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 02:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalips/pseuds/petalips
Summary: It's 1922, and Woohyun's not in love with Sunggyu.





	one for the money, two for the show

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so please, bear with me and sorry for any grammatical mistake.

DECEMBER 12, 1922.

 

Nam Woohyun goes up to the stage.  
When he’s on stage, he sees everything. He feels everything, from the white noise that used to be people's conversations until he learned to ignore them to the yellow lights of the club that love to draw strange shadows on the walls.  
He licks his lips, slides his hand to hold the microphone stand and smiles. The same warm feeling spreads across his chest, just like every single night before he does what he does best. Woohyun takes a deep breath, leans in, and starts to sing.  
He should be used by now. His own voice filling the warm room, the silhouettes of all the people there, blurry from the cigarette smoke, who'll never look at him and the heavy weight of his own body, but he isn't. He used to be, though. He had learned to totally let himself get lost in the music, the golden sparkles embracing him, the smell of alcohol and smoke and the warmth of the old suit who he had brought with his first payment, almost two years ago.  
But the truth is, all the safety and comfort he felt went away when he met those sharp eyes months ago, the same eyes who look at him now from the crowd, lust and nostalgia and fascination and power in their irises but not even a bit of love.  
Kim Sunggyu, the man made of gold. Kim Sunggyu, the business shark and richest man in town. Kim Sunggyu, a man who's heartless but kind at the same time, like the lopsided smile of someone who's just stabbed you in the back. He's a good man, some people say. He's the worst creature this city's ever seen, other people murmur in a low voice, on the corners of the street late at night. He's both, Nam Woohyun thinks, and maybe he's the only one who can really be sure about his words.  
It's not about drugs or money. No, Sunggyu has more money than what Woohyun can imagine and, because of that, he could access any drug he wanted to. With Sunggyu, it's about power. Power to make everybody be like him, power to be the puppet master, to control every single thing and person in town and having them talking by just blinking his eyes. He has the whole city eating by his hand, and he knows it.  
Oh, Woohyun should have known better, too. But he looks at the other man instead, his one thousand dollar suit totally impolute and his hand gracefully holding a cigarette, and he knows that he made the choice that night, and he doesn't regret it at all even if he wants to do so. He doesn't pity himself, but he pities the other man instead as he links their eyes and returns him the smile, a little bit wider than what he pretended. He doesn't care, though, because there's nothing to hide from him, not even if he wanted to.  
The music keeps playing, and Woohyun keeps singing, his gaze on the other man's eyes, and he has never felt the words he sings as useless as right now, when every feeling clutched on his heart has no words to be described yet. But he still sings, because that's what he has to do, that's the only thing he knows, a bird trapped in a golden cage who looks straight into the snake's eyes. Singing, always singing, about a love that they won't find and a power that's all they have to fill their empty hearts, like forgotten heroes who still think they're gods.  
The saxophone stops, the guitar hits its last chord and with that, the music dies and so does Woohyun's voice. He swallows softly and a people clap, golden confetti falling around him just like every single night. It looks artificial, but pretty at the same time, and for a second he lets himself get lost in the warm embrace of the cheers of men and women who won't remember him tomorrow and the smile that looks almost proud of a certain man that doesn't even stand from his seat but whose gaze is louder than any scream.  
Woohyun makes a reverence, turns around to thank Myungsoo and Sungyeol for their work tonight and gets off stage, making his way to the counter, where the bartender's smiles at him.

"You were as amazing as always, Woohyun. Are you staying?"  
"Thank you, Dongwoo." he replies, letting his own weight rest against the black stone. "I don't think so, I'm too tired tonight."  
"Yeah, you better go get some rest. I'll have the money ready in a second, wait here."  
"Sure, no problem." 

He watches the brown-haired man give some commands to a couple of boys that look almost as teenagers and leave, and he asks for a whiskey as he waits for the man to return. The place smells like expensive cigarettes and exotic perfumes, and he takes small sips of his drink while listening to the boy that's singing now. Sungjong and him are not that apart in age, but whenever he sees his delicate, almost feminine and innocent features he feels the need of protecting him. But he knows it's not necessary because he has Sungyeol and Myungsoo there, so he lets himself relax.

"Woohyun?" 

The boy turns around to meet Dongwoo's deep, kind eyes and smiles as he takes the envelope the other man hands him. 

"Don't you want to count it?"  
"I've trusted you for years, Dongwoo, there's no need for me to do so."  
"Better to be safe than sorry..." the brunette sighs, his eyes scanning Woohyun's face for a second, "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look like it."  
"Yeah, I'm just tired," he says, an overused lie that's starting to feel like a truth. "I'll get going. See you tomorrow."

Dongwoo presses his full lips together but ends up sighing shortly. He's just trying to help, but oh, if he only knew. 

"Okay then. See you tomorrow, Hyun."

Woohyun nods softly, gulps what's left of his whiskey and starts making his way towards the door, lighting up a cigarette in the way, letting the nicotine burn the white paper and the dark thoughts that run wild inside his head. He feels a pair of small eyes tagged on his nape when he opens the door, but he doesn't turn around because he knows exactly what he has to do. So, when he's out of the club, the music resonating faintly from the other side of the walls, the cold breeze hugging him underneath the clothes and the sound of cars and hysteric laughter everywhere, he takes a drag of his cigarette and starts walking.

A dog, he remembers suddenly. That's what Kibum had called him once. 

 

 

SEPTEMBER 07, 1992.

 

It was late at night and they were both lying on Woohyun's bed, arms and limbs tangled together, Kibum's head resting on Woohyun's naked chest, the soft fabric of that pink, silky robe Kibum loved so much caressing his tanned skin. Their shared apartment smelled like old cigars, but Woohyun was grateful for that because as long as Kibum was smoking there with him he couldn't be snorting more heroin. 

"You're like a dog, Woohyun, he has you tied on a fucking leash."  
"I'm doing this just because I want to."  
"Yeah, well, when you end up with a broken heart don't u dare to keep me awake at night from your sobs."

Woohyun laughed as he felt the light weight of the other boy disappearing from his chest, studying the other boy for the hundredth time when he got up. He was endlessly pretty, Woohyun knew, with sweet eyes and round lips, raven locks shiny and a smile that was both pure and playful at the same time. His body was skinny and petite, and even though he was tall, somehow he looked tiny. It reminded Woohyun of a bird of some sort, but every time he said that Kibum would hit him and pout, a habit he got from Woohyun.  
No, Kibum wanted great things in life, to fly away from the safeness of the nest that was their apartment. "I was made for the silver screen, Woohyun, and someday you'll see me on every single poster", he had said drunk and giggly, and Woohyun had believed him, an ambitious young boy with the face of an angel and lips that tased like cherries and cheap champagne. But years passed, and those dreams seemed more and more distant each day.  
His friend sighed and took the crystal ashtray they kept in the drawer before returning to bed, making himself comfortable over Woohyun's body once more, facing him. They had learned to be comfortable with each other, and even though they would never be more than friends, they were as affectionate as a couple. It was easy with Kibum, who was naturally as touchy and flirty as him.

"Yeah, as if you wouldn't cry with me."  
"I wouldn't, you dumbass." he said, sighing, letting the smoke out. "You know I'm just worried about you, Woohyun."  
"Don't be," he answered, brushing Kibum's hair with his fingers, "I'll be okay."

He hopes, more than anything, that he will be.

 

 

DECEMBER 12, 1992.

 

Jasmines and expensive cologne. That's the perfume Woohyun drowns in when he takes the other man in his arms, their naked skins meeting, giving each other warmth in the cold night that keeps their secrets in the dark. 

"Woohyun, please..." Kim Sunggyu moans, too far gone to be coherent anymore, like a lost prayer.

Praying. Religion. Woohyun's eyes roam around Sunggyu's body on top of him, his mouth slightly parted and his eyes closed and he thinks this is the only god he could workship, the one that lets Woohyun trap his nipples in between his teeth and pull them lightly, who lets him lick the pearly sweat off his forehead in the most delicate way.   
Woohyun takes Sunggyu by the hips and moves slowly, letting the other man's whines fill the room, feeling the burning sensation of their bodies connected in a way that no one could tell when does one end and the other starts.

"Woohyun, please.... Oh, fuck me..." the older man murmurs again, opening his eyes just to find Woohyun's staring at him, a piercing look that's full of lust and desperation and something that's not love but overwhelms the same, "Please, p-please..."

Woohyun knows what he has to do, and before any of them can process how their bodies are moving, Sunggyu's under him and Woohyun's member meets his raw, wet insides again. Each thrust is harder than the previous, and Sunggyu can't help but let strangled sounds escape his mouth, moans and heavy breathing mixed together, echoing inside the luxurious hotel room that only one of them can afford.  
Power, they say. It's about power, about control. Kim Sunggyu, the man who has both of those things, and yet, when Woohyun slightly presses his hand against the other's throat, it doesn't feel like that at all. 

"Sunggyu" he whispers, his voice low and raspy, and he buries his head on the crook of his neck till his teeth meet his left collarbone and bites, making the other man let out a broken cry.

Oh, that sounds, better than any melody Woohyun has ever singed to. He lets himself get lost in that heavenly music, leaving wet kisses on his whole chest, stopping on each mole to draw circles around it with the tip of his tongue.

"Woohyun, I'm near..." the older man chokes out those words and Woohyun knows what he has to do, the right spots he has to hit and he does so, taking Sunggyu's wrists and thrusting deeper and faster, his whole body almost aching. But he doesn't care, and his eyes never leave Sunggyu's face.

That's his favourite moment. He loves the moment when Sunggyu's lips and his meet for the first time after being apart, the moment when their suits fall to the floor and their naked souls stare at each other and the moment where he lets himself explore Sunggyu's body as if it was the first time all over again, but nothing compares to this.  
What comes first is the small sound he does when his breath gets stuck on his throat, then his mouth in agape, letting Woohyun see his golden tooth and oh the eyes, the way they flicker, half open half closed. Woohyun kisses his temple and his swollen lips as Sunggyu comes, burying his nails on Woohyun's back and letting the liquid spread all over his own stomach and on Woohyun's skin. It's when Sunggyu finally opens his eyes that Woohyun comes out of him, rolling over and closing his eyes when he feels the other man place himself between his legs and lick the top of his member slowly before taking it whole on his mouth.   
Woohyun lets out a hiss of pleasure when Sunggyu starts bobbing his head, his mouth warm and wet on his dick, and it doesn't take much longer till he comes too, looking at the other man's lips wrapped around him, swollen and pink.   
He's still looking at him when he comes up and rests his head on the pillow beside Woohyun's, stretching his arm to take the pack of cigarettes.

"Want one?" he asks, his voice raw.  
"No, I'm fine."

Sunggyu lights up one of them and takes a long drag, letting the smoke out a second after. They stay silent for a few minutes, letting their tired bodies rest, Woohyun's body leaning on the older's.

"I won't be staying here tonight, my wife has been asking some questions lately", Sunggyu breaks the silence, not looking at the younger man lying beside him, "But you can if you want to"  
"No, it's ok. Kibum's waiting for me anyway" Woohyun answers, not even blinking an eye when Sunggyu mentions his wife. He's not jealous, why would he anyway?   
"Hm" he murmurs, turning his head to meet his gaze, a warm smile spreading across his face, "You were amazing earlier, on the club"

Woohyun can feel his cheeks turning pink and shakes his head, letting the view of his face be blocked by the other man's shoulder for a second before looking at him again.

"You say that every single night"  
"That's because you're an amazing singer"  
"I don't think so"  
"Well, you should. It's so sad you can't see yourself the way I see you"

He sighs and rests is his head on Sunggyu's chest, a suffocating feeling taking over him again, just like every single time the older man says that kind of things.

"So, is everything ok? I saw you with Howon tonight" he says, evading the last statement.

Sunggyu takes another drag of his cigarette before answering, his fingertips roaming around Woohyun's back, caressing his skin softly.

"Everything's fine, I think" he answers, knitting his eyebrows together. "I mean, in theory..."  
"So, what are you worried about?" Woohyun asks, leaving a chaste kiss on his jawline.  
"It's just that... I don't know if what I'm doing is wrong, you know? I know Howon, and approaching him would benefit me, but at the same time he has dirty business everybody knows about, and I don't want to get myself involved with that kind of things. I don't know if I'm even making sense, it's just that I'm trying very hard not to think about it, but even if I want to, I can't forget about those things, I can't ignore them"

Sunggyu groans in frustration and takes another drag of his cig, his eyebrows still furrowed, and Woohyun looks at him for a second.  
People are right, Kim Sunggyu is cunning and ambitious, but he's also a kind man, the kindest man Woohyun's ever know. He thinks he's the king on this chessboard, and he would be right, but he's still the main character of this play in which all of them have been wearing the masks for so long they have forgotten how their real face is and they're too afraid to remember it. And, in the middle of it all, there's Woohyun.  
He pities Sunggyu, sometimes. He's the city's favourite man, but he's also the man lying next to him on a Friday night, torn apart between the natural kindness of his heart and the seed of ambition growing inside him, a hungry beast as unnatural as cruel. Kim Sunggyu, a hybrid of god and human, half sin and half heaven.

"You're not a bad man, Kim Sunggyu, and you'll never be. I know you, and I know you'll make the right choice, so don't worry about things like that"

Sunggyu lets his lips twitch slightly at the corners, almost instinctively, and then he draws a smile, wrapping his hand around the other man's waist and leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Woohyun closes his eyes and cups his face with one hand, caressing his cheek for a moment before they break apart again, their noses still brushing together and their closeness warm and safe, somehow. They stay like that, Sunggyu's nose now buried in Woohyun's hair, giving him light kisses with his eyes closed, almost as if he didn't want to let go. But, of course, things can't always be perfect and their own little kingdom of blankets and kisses can't last forever.

"I should probably get going", the older says bitterly (or maybe it's just Woohyun's imagination), kissing him briefly before giving his cigarette one last drag and getting up.

Woohyun stays there, lying on the bed, observing Sunggyu's naked body as he dresses up, preparing himself for the same old show. He thinks to himself that maybe, in other reality, he could have loved Sunggyu (maybe he does) and maybe Sunggyu could have loved him back (maybe he does), if they weren't who they are. If Sunggyu had been another common citizen, if Woohyun would have been richer. If none of them would have been born in 1920, in this town, in this time.   
But once again, is useless, like it's useless to try and ask Sunggyu to stay or to try and explain him why does Kibum snort heroine, why do the people aspire to be him or why does Woohyun keep trying to distance himself from him. He could never understand it, even if he wanted to. They don't belong to the same world, and surely they don't belong together.

"Hey, you okay?" Sunggyu asks, and Woohyun wants to laugh (or cry) because no one seems to believe him when he says he's ok, time after time.   
"Yeah" he answers instead, drawing a tiny smile on his lips, "Yeah, I'm fine"  
"I hope so" the older man murmurs, looking at himself in the mirror one last time before approaching the bed and gently cupping one of his cheeks in his hand, "See you tomorrow? Or Monday?"  
"Monday" Woohyun whispers, closing his eyes when Sunggyu leans in and kisses him tenderly, just for a few seconds before breaking the contact.  
"Monday then" he affirms, placing the last kiss on Woohyun's forehead. "Goodbye, Hyun. Take care of yourself, okay? For me"  
"I will, I will" he laughs, husky, and looks at him with endless affection. "Goodbye, Sunggyu" the younger answers, and before he can blink his eyes again, Sunggyu's gone. 

 

The cab is cold, but the world outside the window is even colder and Woohyun still feels the warmth of the older man's kisses on his skin. He holds to the memory of them together just like all of the previous nights all the way home, letting it find its way to his heart, warm it up from inside and making him smile as the street lights become blurry shooting stars.  
Money, power, glory. Those are the things that Kim Sunggyu wants.  
Music, love, happiness. Those are the things Nam Woohyun needs.  
They're worlds apart, but as long as the sun stays asleep and the golden confetti falls around them, their worlds will meet again.   
And Woohyun swears he's not in love with him, but he would be lying is he said he doesn't want to keep doing what they do, for all the nights to come.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was listening to Lana Del Rey a couple of months ago and this happened. It was kinda sad seeing this in my drafts so here you have it. Thanks for reading (and special thanks to Ava for giving me the courage I needed to post this). 
> 
> Also, you can find me crying over Howon on twitter @inspfinite. ♡
> 
> 03/11/16 update: Okay I'm dumb so I uploaded the non-corrected version of this but I've edited it and now everything's fine! There might be some changes on the dialogue to make it less cringy and some grammatical correction but nothing substantial nor plot-related. Sorry and enjoy!


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